From a cave far away
by Windteller
Summary: It all begins with two people the times made enemies, two people whom war has deprived of human contact, decency, and hope. And from those humble beginnings in a cave far away, a journey was born. One that would sweep the unending wheel of conflicts off its tracks towards the unknown, and carry its heroes where none could have predicted. Explicit descriptions, gore, smut, and love.
1. Chapter 1

Pain in the ribs, armor… broken. Was that blood ? Hard to see with the helmet.

Stumbling on the now cold battlefield among the dead of the day, the Warden could barely think. Leaning on the walls of the destroyed castle, she was walking, one foot after the other, her sword scraping the ground behind her. She had been left for dead, another corpse to feed the ever hungry gods of death. But she was alive after all. Barely. Probably not for long.

She heard a scream. Not far from here. In one of the houses. A scream of fear.

Her blood boiled, her body strengthened, the old Code she had devoted her life to rang in her hand like the commanding voice of the Gods themselves. Her sword in hand, she hurried to the screams, a small house, half burned. She had killed a Samurai there in the battle. She could see his corpse near the open door. Like a hurricane, she barged in, ready to slice in half whatever was pouring fear in the heart of those under her protection.

They were four poor sods, all glued together in the back of the small house. Pillagers, hoping to feed their family by selling whatever they could find, including their own dignity. And in front of them, armed with a long Naginata, a Nobushi. The masked figure was immobile, facing the warden she had heard come a mile away, her masked figure completely hiding her emotions.

The Warden stopped herself, with difficulties. Despite the adrenaline coursing through her, she felt her body failing. She didn't have long. But still, she didn't forget her training. Observing, anticipating, and choosing the best option. The Nobushi was barely wearing any armor, but her stance was cryptic, and long was her reach. She was ready to attack from any angle, and she could kill her before she got close enough. But one thing seemed off. What was she doing here? Then, she saw her bag on the side.

Food. She came here to grab food.

Hesitation coursed through the warden like the venom of a deadly snake. She had come to protect the innocent, to fulfill her duty. But before her was nothing but terrified pillagers and a hungry warrior. Was it worth giving her life? More blood, more death, for a bag? Solemnly, she decided.

Limping, she carefully got around the food thief. The Nobushi slowly pivoted, always facing her, never letting her guard down, and carefully observing as the Warden placed herself between her and the pillager.

Then, by a movement of the sword, she pointed at the exit.

The Nobushi tilted her head, visibly a bit surprised. Then, carefully, she began to walk backward, toward the door. A quick look outside assured her that it wasn't an ambush. Then she left.

 _"By blood, I thought we were dead!_

 _-… Be… careful. Might… still be there._

 _-Hey You alright?"_

The Warden planted her sword on the ground, using her last strength to keep herself on her two feet. The pain had faded now, she felt the darkness growing in her. Her body fell asleep. The last sleep. But she had done her duty, she had saved innocents.

 _"Sell… my sword… My armor… May fate…"_

She fell into oblivion before her last word could escape her mouth.

* * *

Water. Fresh, cold, running on her skin, filling the air. A fresh and humid wind, grazing her skin. Rough fabric. Her tunic, wet. Floating. A cloth, soaked, cold, rubbing against her arm.

Come and go. Come and go. Slowly. Carefully. Pouring water on her. Disappearing, only to reappear seconds later, soaked again. Clean again. Come and go. Methodically.

And a song. A whisper. A melody hummed, just above the sound of water, falling on the stone. A rhythm, low, slow. Come and go. She held on to it. She was.

She was alive.

Her eyes opened, only to see the blurred outlines of a roof made of wild stone, a cavern. She tried to move, to understand what was happening, but a firm hand pinned her on her back. No. It just, gently held her, a cold hand soaked in water. Her body was too weak to move. She began to feel pain again. But she endured and tilted her head to see who was touching her. She froze.

Above her, kneeling besides her was a woman of the Chosen. Her eyes, little slit without expression. Her black hair let down in an obsidian cascade on the toned skin of her back. She was half naked, the remnant of her cloths torn to pieces near her knees. The Warden recognized the fabric. She had seen it before passing out. The Nobushi.

The gentle hand became heavy, and despite her best efforts, she couldn't keep her head out of the ground. Soon it tilted backward, hitting a thin layer of cloth behind her head. She only saw the stone now, her eyes closing of exhaustion. Then the humming continued. Slowly. Come and go.

Come and go.

* * *

She woke up again.

Her mind was clear this time. She was lying down on a bed of cloth over a relatively even ground. Judging by the roof and the smell of nature in the air, they were probably in some sort of little cave, in a forest. There was a forest near the battlefield where she fell. Had she been carried here?

Her body felt sore, and her wounds were paining her. But she felt warm, despite the blanket too small that was covering her, and the smell of ash, a sign that a fire nearby had died out.

She was alive. Definitely alive. But how? Why did that enemy helped her? Did she really? And where was she?

That last question answered itself as she heard a small snore near her shoulder. And it also explained why she felt so warm. The small body of the Nobushi was sprawled over her. She couldn't see it because of the blanket, but she felt her naked body slowly move as she breathed, her cheek buried just above her breast, her hands clinging to her shoulder, even asleep. She was so small! In the house, she looked like a predator, but from up close, it was hard to see her as a mortal enemy.

In fact, she felt embarrassed.

Never, since her days of apprentice, had she felt the warm touch of someone's skin. She turned her mind away, remembering her training. Her oath. First, she tried to look around, but neither her armor nor her sword were on sight. She did asked the pillager to rob her after all. She then contemplated her savior with a new eye, and wondered an instant. Should she kill her now?

As if she had read her mind, the Nobushi's breath stilled. Her hands slightly relaxed. She could feel her feet reaching for a support. The Warden smiled. Never underestimate the Chosen.

She moved her own hand in an effort to pat her arm, signifying her acknowledgment of the situation, but a violent pain interrupted her effort. Instantly, the Nobushi got up, leaving only a cold imprint on the knight's bare skin. With expert hands, the Chosen examined the bandages. It is then that the Warden realized she was covered with it. All her wounds, large and small, were covered with clean cloths. It must had took hours and hours to made them, change them, clean the wounds and tend the fire.

A bit set back by the realization, she didn't immediately reacted when the woman took her shoulders and helped her to sit. She then took a bowl of soup besides her and offered a spoon full of it. The smell was awful, but she felt her body demand nourishment. With haste, she began to eat, voraciously. The crystalline laugh of her healer was enigmatic. Was she mocking her? She didn't care. She just ate, for seconds that felt like an eternity.

Her movements were severely restrained by her wounds, but she managed to eat it all without too much of a problem. Even if it felt a bit humiliating to have a Chosen giving her food, she knew she had to show she was grateful somehow.

 _"Thanks."_ she grumbled.

Her interlocutor didn't know the words, but she seems to understand their meaning. By accident, her eyes wandered on the naked torso of the Nobushi, her scared skin, her firm muscles, her small breasts. She felt herself blushing and looked away. It wasn't the time. It was never the time.

If the Nobushi caught her glimpse, she didn't react to it. She simply designated herself with her hand, applying her palm just under her throat.

 _"Naomi"_ , she said.

She then applied her hand in the same place, on the knight. The warm touch was welcome.

 _"Warden"_ , she simply replied.

Naomi had a little laugh, and pointed at something against the wall. I was her armor, or what little she had.

 _"Nobushi,_ she said pointing at her mask. _Nobushi_ , she repeated, showing her weapon. _Naomi_ , she finally said, pointing at her."

The knight hesitated. She understood, but could she explain something so deep at someone she couldn't even speak to. Even to other knights, she was at a loss of words. But she tried nonetheless.

Slowly, in order not to reopen her wounds, she pointed at her armor and weapon, and then at Naomi.

 _"Nobushi?_

 _-Aye"_ she answered with a smile.

The warden then did the same, but pointing at herself.

 _"Warden."_

Naomi acquiesced again.

She then showed her arm.

 _"Warden"_

Her legs.

 _"Warden"_

Her head.

 _"Warden"_

And finally, her heart.

 _"Warden"_

Naomi observed the scene in quiet contemplation. As the warden tried to explain her oath, she broke her stoic expression and showed… sadness. Her face decomposed in an enigmatic show of emotions the warden did not fully understand, but the gravity of it all left little doubt. She understood. As a Warden, she had left all she had been behind to dedicate herself, body and soul, to her cause. To peace, to people, to protection, to honor, whatever the cost. Whatever the cost.

It was an oath few took the time to ponder upon, to appreciate the depth.

To see a stranger show understanding, empathy…

She smiled.

The Nobushi applied her hand to her shoulder and slowly helped her lied back again. It was outrageous how tired she felt. Her savior then got up, took her mask and naginata and then headed outside. It wasn't long before a weariness took over the warden, and she fell asleep. An uncomfortable sleep filled with strange dreams. Dreams she had forsaken long ago.

* * *

She woke up again. She was alone on her bed. The fire at her side warmed their alcove and bathed in it in scent of pine. She didn't move just yet, didn't even open her eyes. She was alone. It was an odd feeling, for she had slept and woken up alone for the past 20 years. Living on the battlefield, amid the fear and the soldiers, in a destroyed barns, in a ruined castles, in a besieged fortresses. The atmosphere was her real home, her few nights of peace were devoted to prayer, meditation, pondering on her life's choices, her duty.

But there, she thought of nothing. There wasn't any despair around her, no pressure of urgency, no death waiting to pass its judgment that very day. There wasn't the peace of mind that followed said judgment, the calm breeze of rest, both mental and physical, she had grown to cultivate in the long nights. There wasn't anything but a gaping void in her. A thirst she chose not to know. Something… forbidden.

Raising on her elbows, she observed where she was for the first time. The cave was little more than a breach in a rock that nature had covered with green long ago. She could see the "entrance" in front of her, and the obscurity of night beyond. Behind her, nothing but a few bags. Some big, some small, all painted with Japanese symbol she did not understood. She recognized the food from destroyed house where she passed out.

 _"Warden."_

The voice came from the wall. It was Naomi. She had been immobile, blending perfectly with the cave's wall. And she was wearing her mask and armor, despite the lack of cloth. Again that faceless expression was pointed at the knight. Somehow this time, she felt a bit hurt by the implication.

 _"Eat"_

She said in a heavy accent, pointing at a bowl of soup.

Without a word, the wounded soldier sat down and took the bowl besides her. She did so feeling her skin stretch, her wounds twisting around her new scars. But she did so alone, and that was a victory. The soup was better warm, and still awful. She tried to smile, but when she looked up, she saw only a stoic face of wood. A reminder that they were in different side. And all pleasure vanished.

They sat there, silently. One eating, one watching.

Thousands of thoughts battled in the knights mind, but her discipline kept them all in check. There was one insistent question though. Why did the Nobushi saved her.

 _"Na…"_ she began, her sore throat hurting at the foreign words.

 _"Naze… hu… korozu… hi"_

Her Japanese was poor. Her order kept extensive libraries and translation materials, but in all these years, she never but kill the Chosen that stood before her. Somehow she had hoped to make Naomi smile with her poor attempt, but that mask…

Still, she reacted, tilting her head, giving herself the looks of some forest spirit pondering on a strange creature. She spoke again, her accent nearly making her broken words unintelligible.

 _"You… Cover… hum. Plotect… people._

 _-Yes… hum. Bou… Bouei? No. Kabau._

 _-I Protect People."_

She pointed at the bags at the end of the cave.

 _"For my people."_

She stopped a bit, then simply said.

 _"Warden. You… are people."_

She looked away.  
 _"Watashi wa machigatte imashita."_

She stood up, weapon in hand. For an instant, the knight thought she was gong to die, the way the nobushi was looking at her. And somehow, it didn't distress her. She just… looked back. Then, the chosen simply left her alone, walking into the night. Alone again.

For long minutes, the warden wondered what had happened. She had been saved because the nobushi considered her worthy of being protected, because she was a warden. Because she protected people herself. Again, her oath had saved her life. But somehow, this time, it felt empty. She didn't had to read Naomi's face to read disappointment, and she was hurt in return. This place was eerie, so far away from the battles, from… everything. It troubled her, dismantled her certitudes.

But she had to be strong. She needed to rest.

Yes, going away now would be too dangerous. She needed.. to act like a warden again.

Even if it meant dying.

* * *

When the Nobushi returned with wood under her arm, she found the knight had been tending to the flames. They were but embers now, but their refuge was dry and warm. A soup, made of the few bits of food she had taken from the bags was boiling a bit. It would soon be ready. The chosen just stood there, at the entrance of the cave, her face as invisible as her thoughts. It was still dark outside, and she was wearing almost nothing due to most of her cloth having become bandages. The knight could see her shivering.

Without a word, she invited her near the fire.

Cautiously, the Nobushi approached, and slowly sat down, weapon in hand. It was hard to imagine that the same person had healed and cared for the Warden. Now she felt like another stranger. As if… well, as it had all been a dream.

They sat there, silent. And when the Warden offered her a bowl, she simply took it, but did not remove her mask or grab a spoon. She just stood, motionless, staring at her.

After a few minutes of silence, only interrupted by the occasional animal outside, she finally asked.

 _"Naze kibishii?"_

Why was she so cold, or so the warden tried to ask.

She shouldn't have cared. But that void in her. It demanded answers. It demanded… to be filled.

The Nobushi didn't budge one bit.

 _"Warden. Same as Samurai,_ she began. _Samurai say: I protect people. Samurai say: I am all samurai."_

Her hands began to tremble.

 _"Then, samurai make war. Samurai anger others. Samurai take blade and kill. And other come to kill people. And samurai not there."_

Her voice was breaking up. The knight felt horrible. Horrible because it rang so true to her ear. She had made an oath, to protect people, to spare them the horrors of war. Yet, in years of service, she had been on more battlefield than any scavenger. She had killed far more than she had saved. Yes, true, she had kill in defense, she had killed invaders. But, just as often, she had gone out of her land to strike the invaders, to prevent them from coming in the first place.

She was a cog of war.

Naomi was now barely containing herself.

 _"I protect people! From others! From Samurai! You..."_

She stopped. Her rage vanished. Her body went from anger to sorrow.

 _"You not people. You Warden. I… Nobushi."_

She tried to stand up, but a hand grabbed her arm before she could. The knight had acted on impulse. She was overflown with emotions she had left buried. Guilt. Shame. And needs that she had ignored. She couldn't let her go. Not like that. She wasn't just a warden, and her savior wasn't just a chosen. This war… this endless bloodbath. It had no meaning anymore. Not here. Not now.

 _"Anata wa…_ she began. _Naomi. Watashi..."_

Words stopped in her throat. It had been so long. She felt like she was breaking her promise. But that was the point wasn't it. What good is an oath to protect people, if it isolates you from others? What good is an oath, if you can read only contempt in the eyes of those you should protect. Of those who should be your allied?

 _"Watashi… Gwendolen"._

She felt tears, shame. She had said her name. She had broken something in her. Unable to bear it, she just let go of Naomi and turn her head away. She didn't want to be seen like this. She didn't want to feel like this. The whole situation was a disaster. Nothing was at it should be. She didn't have her sword, she didn't have an armor. At this moment, she wished the gods for an enemy, someone to kill, so it all felt right again. And she felt even more shame at the thought. What was she?

Who was she?

In this cave, far from war, she just didn't know any more.

The sound of wood floor woke her up. A hand, a damaged hand, rough like old wood, softly touched her face and turned it gently toward Naomi. She had shed her mask. She was so beautiful. So close. So… human.

Without a thought, Gwen leaned forward and pressed her lips against Naomi. Her lips, like bramble branches, scratching and clawing. Dry, fleshy lips on her own damaged mouth, smelling of sweat and bad soup. Contact with another human, that wasn't death or pain. It lasted but a second.

It was a bliss beyond imagining.

Naomi broke the contact, her eyes wide with surprise, her little nose twitching like a mouse. Gwen knew she should have felt sorry, ashamed. But she didn't care. She needed it, that contact. She needed to remember she was still human. But instead of anger, she saw in Naomi's eyes a longing, a desire. A void. Yes. They were the same.

Jumping on her like a wolf, Naomi tackled Gwen on the ground, fiercely pushing her lips on hers. Their burning chest rubbed against each other, Gwen grasping the Chosen's back as if she was going to evaporate, Naomi devouring the knight's mouth as if had been starved all her life. Her tongue poked the knight's lips and entered her mouth. Sweet wetness, soft, spared, undamaged tongue, twirling in her, licking her. She tried to reciprocate, but could barely go past the barrage of twirls of her companion.

She knew she had desired it since she had tended to her wounds. For an instant, she imagined Naomi's hand on her body, caressing her, softly, come and go. It aroused more that she thought possible. She tried to move her hands down Naomi's back, and free her of whatever loin she still had on her. Suddenly, she felt her wound stretch, and an intense pain coursed her arm and side, making her arch back.

The chosen interrupted her kiss, snapping out of her relentless desire. Unwittingly, she had rubbed against several of the knight's bandage, with predictable results. But before her surprised look and embarrassment, Gwen could only laugh, even through the pain. She was lying down in a cave, wounded, the most beautiful woman on earth riding her, desiring her. It was all… all so… good.

Gwen slipped her hand behind the Naomi's pants. She squealed, as Gwen's finger reached her moist bush, and began to work her. On all four above her, Naomi closed her eyes and began to pant. Fingers swiped beneath her, caressing her, rubbing against her lips. As they poke at the entrance, she let out a moan of pleasure, and of anticipation. She roughly grabbed Gwen's jaw and moved her head to the side, planting a bite on her throat.

The knight felt herself fading, her whole body trembled with pleasure as her companion relentlessly, licked, bit, and kissed her. Never had she suspected such sensitivity, and for a time, she was tempted to let go and enjoy the marvelous pleasure of the flesh. But she couldn't shake the feeling of competition. And she wouldn't lose.

She wrapped her other arm around Naomi's waist, and pressed her strongly against her. The sheer violence of the act made her finger penetrate Naomi, whose bush was now rubbing against Gwen's whole hand. She heavily sighted, exhaling burning air along her neck, making the knight shiver with pleasure. As she felt her fingers as wrapped in soaked velvet, she moved them, slowly, as surveying and unexplored territory. Each move made her palm stiffen against the sensitive spots of the chosen, teasing her, taunting her. It wasn't long before she began to move her waist on her own, rubbing herself on the taller, stronger woman, letting her desire drip from her and soak the caressing hand.

She got up, abandoning her companion's neck and putting all her weight in the hand beneath her. Like a leopard, she stretched and moaned of pleasure, a great smile on her beautiful face. Gwen took the time to admire her. She had seen many battles, her body was scared and bruised, from her waist of her breast. While brushing her free hand against her, she couldn't help but wonder how many people she had killed. How many death would have to be avenged. For an instant, she saw her again as an enemy. Naomi saw it in her eyes, and, simply guided the hand to her mouth. Slowly, erotically, she bit her fingers and wrapped them in her mouth. Licking them. Sucking them. Gwen felt her own groin tingle unbearably.

She struggled a bit, rubbing her legs together, trying to extract her hand. But Naomi was weighting on it, locking it between her legs, enjoying the futile efforts of the knight as every movement sent waves of pleasure in her. Gwen saw it in her malicious gaze, she knew she wanted it. And she would deny it. But Gwen wasn't one to submit. Despite her injuries, she tensed her body and with one hand, lifted the nobushi. Surprised by the bold move, and distracted by the sudden pressure in her most sensible area, she fell forward, right into the powerful arms of the knight. But her fall was accompanied by the cascade of her hairs, and what began as a playful act ended with both of them both blind and suffocating as if drowning in a black see.

They stopped moving, and then began to laugh. A good laughter, an honest one. Not only because of the hair, but because it all so ridiculous. The world was drowning itself in blood out there, for petty reasons when they bothered to invent some. The Chosen and the Knights had been killing themselves for years, and both of them probably had a good part in it.

But there they were. Two women, entwine together, loving each other and drowning in hair.

They both smiled, and briefly kissed.

Like a snake, Naomi then crawled down, slowly covering Gwen's body with kisses and licks. The knight breathed sharply as she intentionally kissed near the wounds, where she was most sensitive. She could feel her body slither on her, the smell of her sweat, the sound of her tongue tracing lines along her firm muscles. Down, always down.

She then delicately spread her legs, uncovering her groin. She could feel her own heat burning her tight, her wetness spoil the carpet beneath her. But most of all, she felt her breath, slowly inhaling her, and blowing gently over her. She was trembling in anticipation, and Naomi was cruel or talented enough to let it last. Finally, after seconds of eternity, Gwen let out a moan of yearning, her hands reaching for Naomi's head. They met with hers, and as they both held tight to each other, the Chosen dove into her.

The pleasure was too much, she arched back, sending waves of pain throughout her body, struggling with the overwhelming power of Naomi's tongue on her. Her whole body was numb, and yet it screamed, it roared, it demanded more and more. It demanded what had been stolen to it, the passion, the desire, the need for someone. Naomi's lips covered her clitoris and sucked.

The knight let out a cry that resonated in the small cave. All control be damned, she entirely absorbed by the act. She waved, despite the pain that seemed to sing in unison with the pleasure coursing through her from her groin. She tried to look at Naomi, only seeing a mass of black hair locked between her legs, a sight that instantly aroused her even more. In the end, she grasped the chosen hands so tight she though she was about to break the little figure, but she held on, sucking and lapping. She would stop to let the desire build, only to suck again, electrocuting Gwen with unbearable passion. Each time she felt the pressure inside her grow. Pain, pleasure, it was all mixed up, all in one glorious power that seek to burst its way out of her. She held on, she resisted, she didn't wanted it out.

And then, Naomi bit her.

Everything went white as her scream escaped her lungs. Her body disappeared an instant, only for all to come crashing down in a torrent of pleasure. There were no thought, for a moment, the universe stop existing. There was only her, and Naomi. The chosen crawled back, rubbing her small body on her limp flesh, her mouth leaving and exquisite trail of saliva on her. She climbed to her head, and they gazed in each other. Desire, need. Another human.

They kissed deeply, gently. Naomi tasted a bit sour, a bit wet. It was the best thing she had ever tasted in her life, and she clumsily tried to insert her tongue in her mouth. Their kiss lasted, renewed as they caught their breath only to kiss again. Gwen caressed Naomi's hair, massaging her head and grazing her back. She then let an unexpected moan of pleasure.

The knight realized that Naomi had now locked herself on one of her leg, and was now rubbing herself on her. Her senses were still a bit off after her explosion, but the face of her mate said it all. She was dominated by desire and longing, and she was taking it. Gwen smiled, and kissed her in the neck, making the chosen sigh with soft pleasure. She had given her all she had, and what she made her experience had been earth shattering. She would give all for her.

She leaned her on the side, and raised her leg, pressing it against her groin. She could feel her desire run on her flesh, as Naomi rubbed herself with more intensity. Her hands clung to Gwen's neck, their fingers burying themselves in her hair, grasping them, pulling them. She locked her eyes into her gaze, defiant, as if she dared the knight to keep her from taking what was rightfully hers. And Gwen was willing to play along.

By on hand, she grasped her long black hair and pulled it a bit, tilting her head backward. Naomi's smile erased all worry that she was doing something wrong, which, considering it was her first time in years, was an accomplishment she felt proud about. Her other hand then wandered on Naomi's body, each grazing accompanied by a gasp of pleasure, and a firm stroke of her waist against her leg. Her fingers touched her erect nipples, and Naomi went silent. She was preparing herself, and Gwen lived to satisfy.

She pinched it while pulling her hair more firmly, and Naomi let out a silent cry of pleasure, her eyes closed, her mind lost in ecstasy. Her little breast was minuscule in Gwen's firm hand, and she pulled it gently on each side. Then, she released a bit of pressure, allowing the blood to come back, only to pinch again, more tightly. On her leg, Naomi was now pressing herself so hard, she was hurting the knight a bit, but she didn't protest. She dared not interrupt Naomi's journey toward pleasure.

Slightly, the chosen's hand slided from Gwen's neck to her throat. She was still sensitive, and the mere touch sent shivers. But as Naomi extended her hand around it, she opened her eyes with a new expression. One that put fire in the knights entrails. She was silently begging. With a slow, deliberate movement, Gwen placed her hand around Naomi's throat. She squealed as she felt the rugged hand wrapping around her, grazing her thin layer of skin. The knight was impressed and aroused at the perspective. She had the life of the Nobushi in her hand, and the nobushi accepted it. No, she trusted her, with all her being. And so, she squeezed.

The sharp inhale got reduced to a thin stream of air. Her whole body tensed up, stricken with pleasure, stiff with excitement. Her mouth, opened and letting only a small whistling out, her eyes, opened and yet blind, drowned in the sensation of loss. And her head, tilting backward to allow Gwen's hand a larger grip.

The knight released it slightly, allowing her partner of inhale a great bit of air. She was gasping, red, nearly crying, but her eyes were as bright and energetic as ever. And defiant as always. She scratched her with her nail, leaving a small mark of the knight's throat. A taunt. A game she was all but ready to play.

She squeezed again, and this time in a way that forced her head all the way back. She couldn't see Gwen or her own body anymore. And so, the knight reached for Naomi's groin. She was tense as wood, trying to move, to keep her hand from touching her most precious place, but it was no use. Too clumsy, too weak, Naomi couldn't stop Gwen's hand as she buried its finger between she and her tight. And relentlessly pinched her. She tried to cry, but could barely let a sound out, she tried to push the hand away and met with the irresistible strengh of the knight. She even tried unlock herself, but her own stiffness prevented her from controlling her body. At that moment, at her most vulnerable state, she released a powerful spasm.

Gwen witnessed her tense up uncontrollably, her hands clawing the air, her legs crushing the tight they were wrapped around, her tongue pointing out of her gaping mouth. It lasted for seconds, to the point Gwen worried something might have been wrong. But she relaxed, her legs went limp, her arms fell down, and, as the knight released her grip, she breathed a long long sigh of satisfaction.

That was it. They did it. There was a victory here, but she was too overwhelmed to understand what had happened. She just took the blanket, cover them both, and closed her eyes as Naomi snuggled against her.

* * *

They didn't feel bad. But the sun was rising, and they both knew what it meant.

For the first time in her life, Gwendolen woke up next to a woman, snuggled against, looking at her with love, and she looked back with the same feeling. And it felt good, priceless. There would never be any words worthy of that moment. It was just right.

It had been right.

She got up first, letting Naomi alone under the blanket. She was awake, but she didn't want to move. She didn't want to the night to end, and neither did the night.

Her body was sore, from the passion of the night, but also from the lack of activity. Her body was healing well, enough for her to be able to make it back to her lands. Her cloths were still there, filthy with sweat and stiffen by blood. It would be enough.

 _"Stay."_

The plea was heartbreaking, for she too longed to preserve whatever they had here. But it was not possible.

 _"Anata wa Naomi,_ the warden answered, _watashi Gwendolen."_

They smiled at each other. But she continued.

 _"We protect people. It is our... Yakusoku. Koko ni wa dare mo imasen "_

Her smile faded, for she knew it was true. They were both protectors of their people, one had sworn an oath to help the helpless, the other simply took arm against the war itself. It was more than their role, it was who they were, their purpose. How could they stay in that cave, when so many where in need, and there were no few of them. How could they ever be truly happy in such dark times.

Naomi stayed silent, her eyes lost in thoughts, her mind blank. How could the world be so cruel? How could the night dared to end?

But it was no use raging against the time. There was but one thing to do, go back. Go back to the hell of their era.

 _"I may find you._ She whispered. _I may kill you. Outside._

 _-Ee,_ acquiesced Gwen.

 _-You may… kill me._

 _-… Ee."_

She stood up, letting the blanket slide from her naked body. She was expressionless again. As the mask she as all but too used to wear. She then simply walked in the cave and began to gather her things. Her bags. Her armor. Her blade. Her mask. The wheels of conflict will continue to turn. And that night would remain a dream. She kept herself from sighing. From crying. Her people would need help.

When she turned around, she simply gazed on her one time lover. One, and for eternity.

 _"Dōkutsu no yume,_ she said, _when war end. Meet me here._

 _-Alive or dead, I'll wait for you Naomi."_

* * *

And so they went their way. The war continued, demanding more and more deaths. And sometimes, somewhere, innocents had the luck to find the most powerful ally at their side. To find people who valued life outside the war. People who knew how precious and beautiful peace can be, even if, sometimes, it feels like a dream, a fantasy. Even if, after so much death, peace become a fairy tale told to children who never knew it.

A tale that could only happen in caves, far, far away.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Note:** From a cave far away was supposed to be a one shot, an experiment for me to test my abilities to write sex scenes as well as a way to pay tribute to the lore of For Honor, and the great potential within. Tough the subsequent chapters will carry on that spirit, there won't be smut at every chapter for it is a story first. A story that does not shy away from the sex lives of its various characters._

 _I'd like to thank Nakedowlman for introducing me to the idea of writing about sex with an actual story going on. (Be warned, his are non-consensual sex fic)_

* * *

It was the middle of the day, on the outskirt of Nolden's old fortress. It was a ruin now, and an unstable one at that, the continuous wars had destroyed many of its wall, unbalancing the structure. It was quite a sight, to see a ruin being slowly swallowed by the swamps, as if the ground itself had decided of its fate. Still, life went on. Living off the forest nearby, a village had grown on the solid ground near it.

Just a few months back, the war stilled raged on between the Knights and the Samurai, before the Accords of the Shogun that stated the terms of the truce. This piece of land on the border of the Chosen's land was now officially out of the war, for at least a year, probably less. The people here had came in mass in order to rebuilt, to sow, and to harvest. But it was an old battlefield, and it was enough to plant a spade in the ground to discover the bones of a victim.

By decree, all Chosen weapons and armors were to be sent back to their land, and a small force stayed behind to ensure it was done. Many believed their presence would make the people uneasy, but it turned out they couldn't care less. After the first month without a raid, most were happy enough as it was.

So any corpse they found, they gave to the enclave. At first, they tried to respect their tradition and give them proper burial, but soon it was clear there never would be enough ground in this swamp. So they burned the bodies, and left the bones in a remote part of the castle, soon to be eaten by the

soil.

It was there that two figure were standing. In a roofless room overlooking the courtyard overflown with blacken bones. The woman was a Warden in full armor, seated like a gargoyle on a broken pillar. She was lost in thought, observing her long sword, damaged by years of battle, bearing the mark of hundreds of death. The only instrument of her order. The man was standing near the scuttled wall, his pants down, pissing on the bones below, a big smile on his bearded face.

" _So this is what peace looks like hu! I guess those guys never got to saw it._

 _-Would it kill you not to disrespect the dead?_ Wearily asked Gwendolen.

 _-Well it's not going to kill them, that's for sure."_

He put his pants back and readjusted his shirt. As always, Jacques didn't care much for decency or protocols. The man and her had fought side by side countless times, and just like her, he had sow death and destruction to the enemies of the Knights, whoever they were, but he always took a bit too much delight in it. She couldn't really understand why she never got mad at him for his behavior. Perhaps because for his cruelty, Jacques never glamorized the idea that they were all killers on their way to hell. Perhaps because of all his friends, he was the last that still could smile.

 _"So! This is Nolden? How long as it been, four years?_

 _-Yes, things have changed here._

 _-Yeah people are like dung beetles, they know how to make big piles of shit looks presentable in no time._

 _-We should move, I don't think our presence will stay unnoticed._

 _-Hu? Ho right. We're deserters, right"._

Jacques stopped suddenly, then exploded in a gigantic laugh. The very idea that a Warden would be a deserter never got old to him. One woman, defying her millennia old Order AND the whole Knight Legions. That didn't kept him from deserting with her in a heartbeat. It was hard to imagine that he had been a Lawbringer for most of his life, whatever age he had now.

Gwen got up. She was anxious, tired, sweating. It had been four years since that battle. Since that promise. Since… well, since Naomi. The Accords weren't the end of the war, certainly not with the Vikings still raging, nor was the truce an actual peace. It wouldn't even last, everyone knew it. But if there was a chance, one chance she'd be there…

 _"Thinking about her?_

 _-How would you know?_ asked Gwen, surprised.

 _-Every time you think about her, you rub your thumb against your throat. Well, as much as you can over that helmet. She tried to slit it?_

The Warden stayed silent.

 _-You're defecting for her. Ha! At least tell me it's some kind of juicy revenge._

 _-Let's just see if she's there. Don't forget your sword."_

They elected not to go through Nolden. There was a Lawbringer in town, stationed here to keep an eye on the Chosen Enclave. If one villager started talking about a Warden around, he would become suspicious. There was little chance he would know of his defection, but she preferred not to tempt fate.

So they walked through the forest, far away from the road and the patrols. They were at risk with bandits, but it was better to be attacked by people with no reinforcement to send after you. Things had changed a lot. The swamp had gotten bigger, and the village had cut a lot of wood in order to rebuilt houses, mills, and granaries. It was harder for Gwen to find her mark, especially after such a long time, but she did not foolishly count the trees or the little roads. She had memorized the hills, the distance from the castle, and the rock formation. Years of travel had sharpen her senses on such things, and even after all this time, she recognized her way.

Jacques was following her with a light feet. Armed with only a sword, and with nothing but a leather armor on him, he was a stark contrast to his taller, grimmer, and more heavily armored friend. But anyone who had an eye for danger could see that the man was not to take lightly. His movements were deliberate, his weight almost non existent, and his hand always on his weapon. If Gwen was a boar, smashing her way through the difficult terrain, Jacques was a lynx.

It took them less than an hour to find the right hill, and no more that minutes to finally get to the cave. Gwen froze at the sight, fear eating her guts. It was just as she remembered. The sound of water nearby, the smell of trees carried by the north wind, the gray stone covered with lighter spots. This was it. The cave, far away.

 _"I don't like it,_ muttered Jacques. _There isn't a soul here._

 _-She's probably inside._

 _-If she has a crossbow, you won't make it past the entrance._

 _-Wait here._

 _-Not a chance."_

Gwen sighted. She never disclosed the true nature of her relationship with Naomi to Jacques. Then again, she never asked for his help. He went on his own, not knowing what to expect.

 _"Don't draw your sword, let me handle things."_

The very air was making her shiver. She steeled herself, tightened her grip on her sword, and entered the narrow opening, Jacques just behind her. Nothing had changed. Gwen remembered every detail of that cave, every asperity, the inclination of the roof, the depth of the cave. It took an instant for her eyes to adapt to the dim light inside, but as she walked in, she saw her.

Kneeling at the very end, the Nobushi was waiting, her wooden mask identical as the one four years ago. She was immobile as a statue, her weapon at her side, her armor perfectly adjusted, her skin sublimely light.

Gwen sighted, and with a brutal movement, parried the surprise attack.

The Nobushi had stretched forward, extending herself like a snake in a lightening attack, making full use of the great range of her nodashi. The blade would have pierced the warden's helmet in one stroke should she had not reacted so quickly. Holding her blade on her side as sheathed, the way all Wardens did when not engaged in battle, she simply raised her arm and used the crossguard to deflect the blow upward.

In the same movement, the Nobushi realized that the warden's sword was now directed at her face, the blade perfectly parallel at her own, now useless, weapon. She only felt panic as Gwen took a step forward, plunging the points through her mask, her face, and her skull, in a horrible crack of bones and cartilage. An incoherent bleating was all her lung could muster before a violent shake finished to shatter her spine, killing her instantly.

The wooden face fell to the grounds, cleanly cut in two, soon accompanied by a gush of blood, and a dead woman's body.

Gwen just stood there, contemplating her act.

 _"Well that was anti-climatic._

 _-… That wasn't her._

 _-You're right. She was less two-face last time Huhuhe._

 _-I'm serious._ Gwen insisted. _It wasn't her. I know her, she's not the right size._

 _-What you sew her a robe last time you met?_ Mocked Jacques. _Listen, it's been four years ok? She was exactly where she was supposed to be, she attacked you, you killed her. A bit straight forward I admit, but hey, dreams never hold up to reality._

Gwen just groaned. No. It wasn't her. She didn't doubt, she couldn't let herself doubt. Her mind stiffened, she would not think about it until the next night.

Both turned back. They heard noises outside, people. A bunch of them.

 _"Ho my,_ blandly exclaimed Jacques, _I think we are ambushed._

 _-Good. People to interrogate."_

She went first, walking slightly side way, Jacques just behind her again. This proved to be a sound tactic when an arrow flew to them, only to slide over the Warden's armor and break itself inside the cave. They were five, armed with thick swords, lances, and one with a katana and a bow. None of them were decently armored, nor looked that skilled. They had fire in their eyes however.

 _"Kono Yariman!_ Exploded the one with the katana, _You'll die right here!_

 _-They're serious,_ commented the ex Lawbringer.

 ** _-WHERE. IS. NAOMI._ ** Thundered Gwendolen, with such aplomb the group slightly walked back.

 _-Sh… She's dead! And her last words are for you! SHINE"_

The apparent leader threw himself forward, katana in the air, and stroke with all his strength. The blade never got to Gwen's armor however. It stopped mid swing so suddenly, the chosen nearly lost his grip. Jacques had intervened, and grabbed the blade with one gloved hand. The others were stunned, and after an instant, the one with the katana tried to move his weapons, to no avail.

 _"What do you think Jacques?_

 _-Well I'd be pissed if it wasn't so cute. Look at them trying so hard! So I'll give them half a chance._

 _-Hear that?_ Said Gwen, arming her sword. _Those who can flee will be spared. Those who can't..."_

Using his sword by his other hand, Jacques slit the throat of his trapped victim, making blood rain over the grass and leaves around. The others hesitated an instant, but charged anyway. To their death.

One with a lance tried to impale her, but put too much faith in his range. The Warden charged him with her shoulder, making the blade screech against her armor and catching him with a sure footing. His face cracked on impact, shattering his nose gruesomely, sending him on the ground screaming incoherently. His companion just besides him took a sharp breath as the knight was now just besides him. Two slashes, and he was rolling on the ground, his fleshed exposed to the bone, his liver poking out.

Behind him, Jacques had used the hilt of the katana as a mace, and hit his lancer so hard his jaw broke in a sinister crack. He fell to the side, making way for the last opponent, charging wildly, blade above his head. Jacques smiled. He deflected the poorly aimed strike with another swing of his blade gripped katana, and slashed him on the leg with his sword. Blood splattered on the soil as the Chosen screamed in pain, but Jacques wasn't finished. With a quick kick, he dislocated the man's knee while he was distracted, silencing his scream and throwing him down on the ground. Very deliberately, he thrust his sword in the wounded soldier's shoulder who fell back upon impact. As he touched the ground, the blade penetrated like a hot knife through butter, and broke the bones inside.

His eyes screamed in utter terror, flooded by pain and anguish as Jacques, smiling all the more, was enjoying every single second of it.

 _"Behind you"_ laconically warned the Warden.

Jacques expertly dodged the spearman charging his back. In a swift move, the ex lawbringer tripped the man who fell on his dislocated jaws with great force, and quickly ended him with a raging stab in the neck. If there was one thing Jacques didn't like, it was interruptions. Speaking of which he looked at his living victim, twitching in the ground in a desperate attempt to flee. Licking his lips, Jacques pinned him to the ground with his foot, trampling on his destroyed shoulder. Than, slowly, he applied the guard of the katana on his throat. There was an instant where both knew what would happen. One tensed up in fear, the other laughed in joy. A powerful stroke later, the man had a katana's guard through him to the hilt.

Jacques looked around, to Gwen's wounded yet still breathing opponent. One was dead without knowing it, trying in panic to keep his organs inside. The other was just blinded, holding his face as the blood of his pulverized nose was flowing on his eyes.

 _"You're gonna finish those?"_ Eagerly asked Jacques.

With two swings, Gwen slit each throat and let them quickly succumb to their wounds.

All Chosen were now lying on the ground.

They were all dead.

She was dead.

Jacques sighted with satisfaction.

 _"I guess that's that then._

 _-… I guess so._

Jacques cleaned his sword with the cloth of their attackers

 _-What did you do to her so that she'd try to kill you, even dead?_

 _-I don't know._

 _-You raped her or somethi-_

 _-No!"_

The simple thought. The idea. Gwen was losing her calm. She didn't do anything wrong to her. But… But maybe, it was inevitable. Maybe the knights had been too cruel, maybe the she came to regret the night. Gwendolen could have understood, if she had said it to her. But to think she was dead. To think her last breath were polluted by hatred for her.

She felt tears on her cheeks, behind the heavy helmet.

 _"How about we get out of here? Journey's over. Maybe they'll take us back._

 _-We can't leave. We killed people._ She said trying to sound as impassible as she could.

 _-Yeah, that kind of happen a lot this days. Especially around me. Hehehe. Figures._

 _-Not here, not in Nolden. It's a war free zone remember?_

 _-So what,_ deflected Jacques, _let them deal with it._

 _-The peace is fragile. If they found corpses in the forest…_

She stayed silent a moment, pondering on the honorable thing to do.

 _-I'm going to give myself up._

 _-What you crazy!_

 _-If I don't, how long until Chosen retaliate? No. There must be justice._

 _-Listen here pal,_ hammered Jacques, dead serious. _Justice is bullshit. They'll hang you in a corner and find another excuse to kill themselves, that's how it's always been._

 _-Yeah. I guess they will."_

The warrior threw his hands in the air in frustration, then simply departed. There was no farewell, no wished of luck. As always, he went the way he wanted. As always, she chose the path of honor.

* * *

The Warden was dragged to the center of Nolden by the powerful grip of the local Lawbringer. It had been a humiliating walk through the town, forced by law to remove her helmet, and now bound over her armor as a common criminal. Humiliating, and humbling too. Rarely did Wardens feel the same justice as others, for they are often on the front lines. Law, there, is absent, and the only justice that exists is will of the winner. But it was a time of peace, she was obligated to report her crimes, as every civilians should do.

She had hoped the matter would be solved quickly. This was why she had accepted to give her sword away, and was doing her best to keep up with the surprisingly fast Lawbringer. Despite his heavy armor and bulky halberd, he was nimble, energetic, and unflinching. It was no surprise that Jacques, despite being shorter than most of his peers, had the strength of a bull without so many plates on his shoulders.

They stopped in front of the well, the core of Nolden, where many were waiting for them. Among them, the representatives of the enclave. All four of them were armed, despite being technically on stranger's land, and their falsy relaxed stance betrayed their experience on the battlefield. However, while they seemed deadly, Gwen had killed hundreds of them, armed or not. She slightly smiled at the idea that, even at peace, her mind was still weaving plans to kill everyone she met.

 _"I summoned you,_ started the judge, jury, and executioner, _because of a crime that concerns us all. As a Lawbringer, I am mandated to bring justice to the matter, under the Accords of the Shogun, signed by the Legion's hierarchy and blessed by the Empress Ayu."_

The four samurai slightly bowed at the mention of their empress's name. One of them was more richly clothed than the others, wearing a black and light red kimono. Even far from home, perhaps because of it, traditions seemed to be heavily enforced in the Enclave.

 _"Before you is Gwendolen, sworn to the Warden Order and allowed as such to travel unsupervised on any territory under the Legion's Law. As of a few moment, she reported a skirmish within my jurisdiction implicating Chosen immigrants, under Enclave supervision as per the sixth section of the Accords of the Shogun. Warden, swear that all your words are truthful, honest, and sincere. Then publicly report the event."_

And so she did. She related how she and a friend who did not wish to surrender to the law were looking for a cave, and were ambushed by Chosen. She explained how they attacked her due to the last words of a dead warrior, and how she fought to defend their lives. As she described the event, she took a good look at the crowd around her. Their judgment had gathered all the village now, and the tension was filling the air. She could see among the faces some Chosen, in cloths much like those of the native of these lands. Some of them showed sign of mixed ancestry.

They all knew the fight could spark a renewal of the battles. But she was there to make sure it wouldn't happen.

 _"So you have heard,_ proclaimed the judge. _Per ancestral decree, the word of a Warden is to be taken as truth until contested by another Warden or one above all suspicion. And so, I declare the verdict, in order for justice to be done."_

The whispers died out, and the crowd waited in silence. The Lawbringer took his knife and cut the ropes around the Warden's hand.

 _"The Chosen have attacked the Warden, member of the army, and therefore declared themselves enemy of the Legions."_

A wave of horror and stupefaction seized the people of Nolden. Many took a few steps back, watching each other in confusion, in fear. The samurai gathered approached their hand to their weapon.

 _"And so the sentence is death._

 _-Wait!"_

Before any blade could be drawn, Gwen interposed herself between the Chosen and the Lawbringer. She couldn't believe what she heard, and yet it seemed so logical in his mouth. She had hoped that she could avoid this very confrontation, and yet her naivety threatened to spark war. But it was no time for that.

 _"You can't do that,_ she insisted, _you're going to break the Accords!_

 _-The law is clear,_ answered the Judge, inflexible.

 _-But…_

-You are of the Warden order, people under their jurisdiction attacked you. They are guilty. Now clear my path or die too!

There was so much power in his voice. So much hatred. A lust for blood that rivaled Jacques's.

 _-I may not be a Warden anymore!"_

That last, desperate attempt shook the Judge. Slowly, he broke from his fighting stance, putting away his intimidating halberd. The silence was absolute. Gwen knew that by doing this, she was possibly signing her own death. But the peace had to be protected.

 _"What do you mean?_

 _-I was assigned a position on the south, but I deserted to come here. Until my order judge me, I may or may not be a Warden._ She smiled, a bit relieved. _So you see, they didn't attack a military target."_

She was appealing to his rigid following of the law. Before his defection, Jacques was inflexible to the point of stupidity, something he insisted was better than the alternative. A Lawbringer is more than a judge, his oath is absolute, he can do nothing against the law, nor can he circumvent it. He may be able to show mercy or cruelty on special cases, but in no way could he make a judgment if it meant breaking the law.

She could not see the face of the Judge, but she could read his moves behind his armor. He was evaluating. Of course that meant that he could execute her right now for desertion, false testimony, or just to appease the masses. But the peace was saved. The Legion's law protected it.

 _"Our men didn't know that."_

The declaration froze Gwen's blood. She slowly turned around to see who spoke so. It was the black clad samurai. He drew his sword, soon followed by his companions.

 _"We sent them when we knew a Warden was here. An easy prey we thought,_ he continued.

 _-You lie!_ Exploded Gwen. _Those men weren't targeting me by accident._

 _-But I must insist, they did. On our precise orders."_

The situation was senseless. They were lying. They were lying for what?

 _"Then that settles it! For breaking the accord, you are condemned to/"_

An arrow shattered on his armor, nearly making him fall over under the powerful impact. The metallic head bounced back into the crowd, and a scream of pain was heard. Soon followed by sounds of panic. Like one man, the four Chosen charged into battle, ready to cut both the Lawbringer and the Warden down. Her instincts took over.

Still armored, she rose her hand to protect her head, and jumped in their midst. Their swords clashed against her like a deadly barrage, but she powered through without falling, despite the blows to her arms and legs. Her armor had held on, and she was behind the now. She had distracted them long enough for the Judge to have broke one's neck by an implacable hit of the hammer of his weapon.

 _"To me!_ Shouted the Judge, surrounded by samurai, _To me warriors of the Legion!"_

All around, confusion broke, and people began running around as if on fire, howling like animals. Nobody saw from where came the arrow, and already people had drawn weapons. Were they trying to join the fray? Were they killing innocents randomly? How many fought for the Samurai? How many for the Knights? Gwen was lost, confused as everyone, unable to know who she should protect, who would try to kill her. All she could do was surviving.

Without a look at the battle that was beginning all around, she drowned herself in the frantic crowd and disappeared.

* * *

The night approached over the clearing where Gwen had stopped to take the time to breathe. She had recovered her sword, and her helmet, starting to feel like a Warden again. But do a Warden leave a battlefield? Did she had any choice? Sitting near a river, a few kilometers away from Nolden, she was washing herself to gather her thoughts. What exactly had happened? She wasn't sure. All she was sure of was that her armor was now stained with the blood of weavers, farmers, blacksmiths, and other innocents caught in yet another battle. Some had died grabbing her, begging her. And there was nothing she could have done. Another massacre for Nolden's castle horrific reputation.

Who was the enemy?

The Chosen had lied in order to begin a fight, and the Lawbringer had been eager to answer their provocation. Who was right? Who was wrong?

She splashed some water on her body, and washed away the blood, the confusion that stained it. Mind clear. Remember the Oath. The old Code.

Horses on the road behind her.

They were far enough for her to put back her armor back and so she came to them, weapon drawn, clean body and soul. She was Warden.

 _"If it isn't the unkillable cockroach!"_

Jacques. Riding one horse, guiding the other by the bridle.

 _"How did you find me?_

 _-Well,_ he said while stopping his mount, _I wondered where would be the most sensible place to go for a fugitive, and then went in the exact opposite direction."_

His laughter echoed through the inhabited forest. Despite his faults, Jacques was a sight for sore eyes, with his long beard and his sparkling gaze. He had visibly stole some horses, along with food, tents, cookwares… Everything one would need for a long journey. It was as if he had read her mind. And knowing Jacques, he could very well had come close.

 _"I saw the smoke,_ he said as Gwen was climbing her horse, Things turned bad at Nolden hu?

 _-You can say that again. I went to help preserve the peace but…_

She stabilized herself on the horse, partially because it had been a long time since she rode one, but also to order her thoughts.

 _-It's like they had prepared for war. Like they wanted it to happen. I was this close to succeed when…_

 _-Haaaaa don't bother Gwen, I know the drill._

 _-… You do?"_

He looked at her with his serious look, the one heavy with experience, the look of the old but not quite dead yet warrior. They both headed forward, leading their horse to a calm rhythm.

 _"You think you can change people Gwen? I mean really? We've been at war since… I don't know, I feel like we've always been. Every time or so people come around to talk, and every time it ends in blood. Like this one time I got called to a farm where villagers wanted some breathing room to cultivate crops. It was sound, good even. The Vikings also had farms around, and they accepted immediately. Everyone needs food right?_

 _-They killed each other?_

 _-Killed each other? Hahahaheha! Worse, they pretended to visit the other's farm and salted the damn ground! I was there to see everything turn into dust. At the end of the day, most of those farmers had killed each other. At the end of the month, the whole place was dead, good only for troops to go through._

 _-Blood…_ The Warden didn't know what to say. _But why?_

 _-Why?! Loudly laughed Jacques. Because we fucking love this war!"_

His hilarity resonated around them like the sinister capping of some dreadful beast, roaming around in the forest. Gwen wasn't sure she understood. She wasn't sure she wanted to understand. All her life had been oriented toward the goal of peace, of preservation. They were Wardens, living fortresses for all those in need of protection. But the way people were clawing at each other, the enthusiasm with which they started the battle over a closed case.

The very fact that the Chosen had prepared an ambush. That the Lawbringer had armed men in the crowd.

It was a madness she wanted nothing to do with. Not anymore.

 _"Don't think about it too much, the accords weren't gonna last anyway. So, back to the Warden's Sanctuary?_

 _-I'm headed toward the Chosen's swamps actually._

 _-Ha! Figures. Nothing is ever over with you hey?_

 _-I'm going to find her tomb. And then… Well, I'll figure it out."_

She could not really explained it. She just needed it. Just like in that cave, four years ago.

 _"Coming with me?_ She asked Jacques.

 _-Me? Ha! And how would you find one tomb in this madness without me. You don't speak Japanese. Hell, you don't even speak the Merchant's tongue!_

 _-The what?_

 _-Hehehehe! Ho you're a good one, did I ever tell you that? Yeah, yeah I'm coming with you Gwen. There's no way I'm missing this."_


End file.
